


Picono Chipochi Cipi Minichi: Ri

by Kittyreaper



Series: Kat's Minichi BS [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap
Genre: Constructed Language, Educational, Guide book, Meta, characters mentioned or used as examples, fan-language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyreaper/pseuds/Kittyreaper
Summary: I may or may not still be creating a language.[PChCM 2: Electric Boogaloo]
Series: Kat's Minichi BS [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576840
Comments: 16
Kudos: 35





	1. No: Onirugi

In February of 2019, I discovered the world of Zelda-based constructed languages. By April, I realized I had bitten off far more than I could chew, between developing a conlang, writing, drawing, trying to graduate high school, running a Discord server, and just trying to exist. So, over the summer, I took a breather. I sat back for a moment, really looked at the big picture of the dumpster fire that was and still is my life. I did some soul-searching. I read a lot of really bad fanfiction. And, as I sit in a cold room lit only by purple string lights and a weirdly bright lamp, listening to the Spanish dub of “I’m the Bad Guy” from Wander Over Yonder, reading aloud what I type as I type it, the clacking of my keys punctuated by the rumbling laugh of someone I didn’t think I’d get this close to, I still feel incomplete.

So, in a feeble effort to fill the cavernous void where my soul should be, I’m going to make another Minichi guidebook from the beginning. That’s right.

Picono Chipochi Cipi Minichi 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Before we diIiIive right in, let’s set some ground rules. Establish what, exactly, you can expect from me moving forward. Rule Number One: I’m not making all those goddamn graphics again. One of the main reasons I wound up dropping the first edition of this guide is that I couldn’t pull together the time, energy, or sheer effort required to lovingly create every graphic I wanted. This time, I’m limiting myself to one or two, max. I’m also going to start with putting together sentences and speaking/writing in the romanized version of the language, as opposed to shoving my audience right into the full Minichiano Unbia. Because I’ve realized that that’s confusing and intimidating for people who haven’t already been exposed to the chaos that is my inner workings.

So, already, this is going to look quite different from the first PChCM. What else has changed?

Well, Minichi itself.

Minichi may be an ‘artificial’ language, but it still has the power to change over time. This is especially true considering I’m a total noob at linguistics of this caliber, and, subsequently, keep changing the rules as I learn more and more on the topic. I think the greatest example of this is the way introducing yourself has completely changed between the first Chipochi and the second: from “Ro Kat ichiri.” to “No Kat-ichi ichiri.” Other differences span from the categorization of Minichi variants, to an expanded dictionary, to the pronunciation and phonology (I think that’s the term?) of the language itself.

Additionally, this past semester was the first time I had studied another language in an academic setting in a good couple years, and it helped with my conlang a lot more than I would have expected - not only with the language on its own, but with the way I want to present the language. I definitely want this edition of the Chipochi to be more like a basic, beginner’s textbook than whatever train wreck the previous was. I will be partially basing this on the textbook I used this past semester, so that’ll be fun. If you’re interested, it’s called “Sag Mal” ; it’s my German textbook. I got it used for under a couple hundred, if memory serves correct.

I also want to connect with my readers on a more personal level, and share more of myself than I have before. In content, I intend to have this guide be a beginning textbook; in atmosphere, I want it to almost be a blog. I want to speak freely and informally here, without pomp or circumstance. I just want to nerd out about this thing I’ve worked hard on.

You may ask, what is the Second Edition of “Picono Chipochi Cipi Minichi”? The answer: a textbook-blog hybrid centered around the labors of a sad college kid obsessed with fictional rat people.

Enjoy!


	2. Ri: Umori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All corresponding audio clips to the Minichi phrases given in this chapter can be found on the Tumblr blog @picono-cogifa

Rini umori! Riniru rono ochi, ro vurout.

Congratulations, you’ve read a phrase in Minichi. In this chapter, we’ll focus on the first half of it; don’t worry about the second. It’s fine. : )

What could I say about “hello”? In so many ways, it is the heart of a language. It’s the opening of a conversation, the first step on the path to comradery. Usually, it’s one of the first words someone learns and their introduction into the big, wide world around them.

This is especially true for Minichi.

“Rini umori” is a shortening of the saying “Rini umori, ro pico como.” This means “I greet you with love” - the part of it kept is the “with love.” The Minish are very sensitive, hyper-aware of others’ feelings. They dedicate their whole lives to making people happy. So, every tme they speak with someone, whether it’s a former stranger or a long-time friend, they bring that into the interaction. They state, at the beginning of the conversation, that they wish nothing but love and positivity upon this space.

This theme of emotional sensitivity and a zealous obsession with making people happy is something that permeates multiple parts of not only Minichi, but the headcanon-ed culture surrounding it.

Take, for example, the next logical piece of this basic conversation: How are you? In English, this is phrased as a “How are you doing?” “How are things going for you?” In Minichi, it’s instead put as “How are you feeling?” And that’s the main way to ask how someone’s doing. They directly refer to someone’s feelings with this question, because that’s what they really care about - people’s feelings. The Minichi translation of this is “Uchi pico riniro?”

To respond, you can say either “Ro uro riniro” or “Ro guro riniro.” The former means “I feel good,” while the latter means “I feel bad.” The Minish are a simple people, with little riches or extravagance. When putting together this language, I wanted to reflect that. The result is a painful lack of synonyms. If you want to say you’re happy, positive, okay-ish, fine, excited, or ecstatic, that’s all one word: “uro.” If you want to say you’re sad, angry, miserable, hungry, tired, unhappy, scared, or flabbergasted, you say “guro.” The exact meaning conveyed entirely depends on the context in which the word is said, including body language, intonation, tone of voice, facial expression, physical environment and situation. To minimize the amount of interpretation required for your conversation partner, most Minish will give a general statement of feeling, then proceed to groundedly explain why they feel the way they do.

For instance, let’s say I’m tired. If someone were to ask me “Uchi pico riniro?” I would respond: “Ro guro riniro” (I feel bad) “Ro givoi zuro ubiri, ano” (I would like to sleep right now). The first sentence gets across my general feelings, then the second elaborates on the context of my feelings.

To react to someone’s response, you could say “O, cho guro ichiri!” (That’s awful!) or “Cho aro ichiri!” (That’s wonderful!).

So, what we’ve got so far is the following exchange:

Alori: Rini umori, uchi pico riniro?

Bilari: O, ro guro riniro. Ro givoi zuro ubiri, ano.

Alori: Cho guro ichiri! Mio, urili, rinu.

“Mio” is the Minich word for ‘but.’ “Urili” is a word used to emphasize someone or thing’s honesty or seriousness. It can mean ‘really,’ ‘very,’ ‘truthfully,’ ‘honestly,’ ‘to be honest,’ ‘frankly,’ or ‘seriously.’ The opposite of “urili” is “girili,” which emphasizes one’s dishonesty or foolishness. “Rinu” means ‘like’ or ‘similar to,’ and, in this context, essentially means ‘mood.’

Next, you would likely expect to learn how to ask for someone’s name and give your own in turn. I’m going to leave that to the next chapter, which will be all about people, and instead talk about manners.

“Picaro” means ‘please,’ and is a shortening of the phrase “Pico aro zuro ichiri, niti…” - “You would great if you…” ‘Thank you’ is expressed with “pichuro,” which is a shortened version of “Pico churo ichiri!” - “You’re perfect!” (i.e. the best person ever). To say ‘you’re welcome,’ you can say “riaro” - “Rini aro oriochi” - “[I did it] with better-than-good intentions.”

Lastly for this installment, but certainly not least, “Umoriut ichiri” is a phrase directly translating to “Be loved.” It’s the most common form of farewell, a final imparting of goodwill before the speakers go their separate ways, and a direct callback to the most common greeting, “Rini umori.” Despite being phrased as a command, “Umoriut ichiri” is more of a hope, a desire for the person you had this connection with, however fleeting, to go out into the world and form more. To find people who love them. I find this especially relevant now.

Winter’s my least favorite season. It’s cold; it’s dark; it’s usually wet and gross out because I live too far south to get acceptable amounts of snow. I always get this awful, persistent cold for the entire period between November and March, my mental health tends to kick my ass around the same time, and for the past few years, my friends and family have been hit with some unforgettable hardship right in the depths of winter. It hasn’t been a good time for me, but it’s also the time hailed as the height of charity, kindness, and humanity. It’s host to beloved holidays celebrating family, community, supporting one another through thick and thin. As much as I’d love to just hibernate through the whole season, when I hold my smiling niece and watch my almost always quarreling relatives sit down to a home-cooked meal, there’s always a moment where I let myself think it’s worth it.

So, as Orin dies in the background, and one of my friends judges me for not knowing Little Shop very well, and I march forward not only into the new minute of 1:40 AM but the new adventure of creating a basic but decent guide to my constructed language, I say to you all: Be loved.

Umoriut ichiri,

Kat C.


	3. Tu: Ochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All corresponding audio clips to the Minichi phrases given in this chapter can be found on the Tumblr blog @picono-cogifa  
> Side note: I am so sorry this chapter is so late - I posted it to Tumblr, then deadass forgot to post it here.

Rini umori nopi!

What’s in a name? This is something we’ve been asking ourselves for generations - since the time Juliet stood on the round stage and beyond. No matter how you cut it, names are a critical part of our identities. They’re how people know us, how we know ourselves. They define us as much as we define them.

So, it’s only fitting that the third chapter is dedicated to how you define yourself.

In the last chapter, we outlined the Minichiano greeting and goodbye process. If you will remember, however, we did not discuss introductions. It all starts with a question: “Chio pico ichiri?” - Who are you? The response to this question follows a simple template:

No [Name]-[Gender] ichiri.

The Minish only appear in The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap, but from what we’ve seen, most of them look very similar, and very androgynous. Coupling that with how accepting and open-minded one would expect a culture based around love and happiness to be, I can’t imagine our tiny friends wouldn’t explicitly state their gender when introducing themselves. There are three words used to do so: “icho,” “ichu,” and “ichi.” “Icho” is the general word of masculinity. It can mean boy, man, male, or masculine, depending on context. “Ichu” is the general word of femininity, meaning girl, woman, female, or feminine. “Ichi” is equivalent to “person,” and is used in reference to people who are gender-ambiguous or non-binary, or a person whose gender is unknown. When introducing oneself, these words are used as suffixes to express one’s preferred pronouns. For example, I would introduce myself by saying, “No Kat-ichi ichiri.”

If someone accepts multiple pronouns in reference to themself, they will use multiple suffixes, given in order of preference. Take my friend, whom I shall call Vuroti for the purposes of this exercise. They’re a demi-man, and prefer either gender neutral or masculine pronouns. If they were to introduce themself in Minichi, they would say, “No Vuroti-ichi-icho ichiri.” They would put the “ichi” first, because they have a slight preference for gender neutral pronouns.

Now, you may be wondering what, exactly, does this translate to? When directly put into English, the template becomes: “A [Name]-[Gender] exists.” “No Kat-ichi ichiri” becomes “A Kat-person exists.” “No Vuroti-ichi-icho ichiri” becomes “A Vuroti-person-boy exists.”

And now you’re probably wondering why this is a thing. Funny story, really.

I could sit here all day and detail all of my concepts and headcanons pertaining to the Minish. To spare you the trouble: a running theme with me is putting as much folklore into them as physically possible. According to European folklore and fairy tale, names have power, and in such stories, characters and readers alike are warned not to give their names to supernatural entities, particularly members of the Fae. As far as I’m concerned, the Minish are basically Hyrulean Fae. They’re little helpers invisible to all, save children pure of heart, who bring humans good fortune, but otherwise keep to themselves. They sound like something taken directly from a fairytale. So, I think it stands to reason that the Minish would consider knowing someone’s name having a form of power over them. As a result, Minichiano introductions are phrased to indirectly give one’s name. Instead of explicitly stating what your name is, you state that someone with your name and gender exists, and your conversation partner assumes said name and gender are yours based on the context - this way, you introduce yourself, but technically don’t give the other person your name.

To make this exchange a little less confusing, I imagine the Minish would bring a hand to their chest to gesture to themselves during introductions. Like, using their body language to clarify that, while they’re speaking rather indirectly and cagily, they are, in fact, referring to themselves. This gesture could also slightly vary between Minish to better display their characters. Melari could give a single pound to his chest; Gentari could gracefully bring an open palm to his heart; younger Minish could jab a thumb in their direction - never in the direction of another, though. I imagine Minish would consider it incredibly rude to introduce someone else (unless they’re dead or dying), purely because of the importance they place on names. Throwing someone else’s name around without their permission would be like giving their cell number to random strangers.

On a related note: there is no word for ‘name.’ Cho gigi giro ichiri. (It just doesn’t exist.) This was hinted at previously in this chapter, with the method through which one would ask for another’s name: “Chio pico ichiri?” - “Who are you?” If someone were to refer directly to one’s name, they would instead refer to “core ichi/ochi” - their person/soul, their very being. Again, I wanted the Minish to associate names with power, particularly power over someone. One’s name is not just a classification - it’s an intimate expression of oneself. It’s who you are.

Figuring out who you are can be increasingly difficult in today’s society. There are a million and one labels for nearly everything, which is important for arguing these identities’ validity, but can also overcomplicate what’s already a complicated and confusing process. Even when you boil it down to the simplest aspect of identity, your name, it’s hard. I know it was for me. God, when I hear a certain name, no matter how innocuous the context, I still feel so uncomfortable. Though it means nothing to most, to me, that name has power. It means something. Whatever a name means to you, should it mean anything at all, let’s hope it’s good.

Umoriut ichiri,

Kat C.


	4. Cochi: Ichi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All corresponding audio clips to the Minichi phrases given in this chapter can be found on the Tumblr blog @picono-cogifa

Rini umori! Cio pico uro riniro, ro ubiri.  💜

Since last time we talked all about ourselves, in this installment, we’ll be talking all about everyone else - from nationalities, to titles (we’re leaving friends and family for next week). We’ve got a lot to cover, so, without further ado, let’s dive right in!

The rule of thumb with Minichiano words related to nationality/race/ethnicity is this: -i (usually -chi or -ani) words are nouns, and -ano words are adjectives. For example, “Minichi” is a noun meaning either a Minish or the Minish language, while “Minichiano” is an adjective meaning “of the Minish.” It’s the same case with “Ailiani” and “Ailiano;” “Cociri” and “Cociriano;” “Chicani” and “Chicano.” All the words in this category can be found in the Minish-to-English Dictionary ( [ https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MgaCzn_g_HTLosbMcXHPFOHp7UMSOh7zCPvwrLkK8NA/edit?usp=sharing ](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MgaCzn_g_HTLosbMcXHPFOHp7UMSOh7zCPvwrLkK8NA/edit?usp=sharing) ), but here’s a consolidated list:

Minichi, Minichiano - Minish

Cociri, Cociriano - Kokiri

Chociri, Chociriano - Skull Kid

Feiri, Feiriano - Fairy

Recuni, Recano - Deku

Airuliani, Airuliano - Hyrulean

Ailiani, Ailiano - Hylian

Chicani, Chicano - Sheikah

Geruti, Gerutano - Gerudo

Taili, Tailiano - Twili

Goroni, Gorano - Goron

Zorani, Zorano - Zora

There are a couple more important words of this nature to be aware of: “Farochi, Farochiano” and “Girichi, Girichiano.” “Farochi” loosely means “Farore’s people.” It’s the Minish word for the tribes of the forest: the Minish, Kokiri, Fae, and Deku. I firmly believe in forest tribe solidarity, and I will die on this hill. Already, OoT establishes a close bond between the Kokiri, the Deku, and fairies - is it really such a stretch to include the Minish? The Minish can only be seen by pure-hearted children, but the Kokiri are a tribe entirely consistent of children. There’s no way the Kokiri don’t know about the Minish. You can fight me on it.

As for “Girichi,” this term, generally speaking, translates to “outsider.” It’s used to refer to anyone who isn’t Farochiano, but, more specifically, tends to mean “human/mortal.” Humans, as a category, can encompass Hylians, Sheikah, and Gerudo (and maybe Twili, depending on your headcanons). Another note: if you are a Minish, and you call another Minish “no Girichi,” they will consider this a great insult, and probably start crying. They’ll interpret it as social rejection, which would probably be kind of a big deal to people who dedicate their lives to making others happy. A Minish calling a human Girichiano, or a human calling a Minish Girichiano - those are perfectly normal, and perhaps expected. A person of the forest calling their kin that, however, is extremely hurtful.

It’s unknown whether the Hyrulian Minish are aware of Lorule’s existence, but if, for whatever reason, you want to know how to refer to it in Minichi: “Loruliani, Loruliano, Lorul” - “Lorulean (n), Lorulean (adj), Lorule.”

In case you haven’t noticed, the Minish tend to call other groups by the names they call themselves, although slightly modified for Minichiano pronunciation. This is because the Minish want to be as conscious of others as possible, and as considerate towards them, their cultures, and their preferences as possible. The main exception is the word for Skull Kid: “Chociri” - directly, “Kokiri-thing.” As harmless as most Skull Kids are (MM, I’m looking at you), they can be a little mean and scary when they want to, so I imagine the Minish wouldn’t know what to think of them. It certainly wouldn’t help if the Minish had a close relationship with the Kokiri, Deku, and Fae, as those groups almost seem to look down on Skull Kids. As a result, I think the Minish would see Skull Kids as strange almost-Kokiri, hence “Kokiri-things.”

The word for nationality/ethnicity/race is “nicogi.” A country, nation, or state is a “vinico.” A region within a vinico is a “mico.” A tribe is a “minico.” A group of any sort is an “alichi” - which is a slurring of “ali ichia,” which means “many people.”

Within your average society, there tends to be a hierarchy, and with it, titles of importance: King, Queen, Lord, Lady. Below is a list of these titles, in order of standard hierarchy:

Rugichio - Monarch (normally refers to the Fairy Queen)

Chigichio - Successor, as in prince/princess (can also mean any kind of heir, inheritor, or protegé)

Ruchipo - Noble (normally refers to the Minish Elders)

Uroichi - Religious leader (can refer to any religious leader, from a priest to the Pope)

Uchipo - Sage or other particularly great magician (I’ll make a whole installment about magic/magician terminology later, if you’d like)

Ruchinori - Teacher, boss, employer, or master; someone older and presumably wiser than you, from whom you are learning or for whom you are working. This word is usually shortened to “ruchi.”

Now, in case you didn’t notice, none of these titles are gendered in Minichi. King and Queen are condensed to “Rugichio” - “Monarch.” Lord and Lady become “Ruchipo” - “Noble” (though this word is most often used to refer to the Minish Elders). Across the entire language, no occupations or titles receive gendered definitions. As you’ll discover in the next installment, even ‘mom and dad’ are expressed with just one word: “caretaker.”

My mind has gone blank of new vocabulary, and I’ve said all that I intended. This is the part of the blog where I’d usually body slam my way through some sappy speech and pray to whatever Gods may lay above that it doesn’t come out hopelessly pretentious. Honestly, though, today I got nothin. I don’t know if it’s just the topic or what. I can’t think of any political statement to shoehorn into here.

Don’t be a dick to Skull Kids, and don’t make Minish cry

Umoriut ichiri,

Kat C.


	5. Lino: Lufiri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All corresponding audio clips to the Minichi phrases given in this chapter can be found on the Tumblr blog @picono-cogifa

Rini umori, and hello!

At this point in the guidebook, I’ve realized that I have yet to rattle on about Minish grammar. This is a crime and must be corrected, but I don’t intend to make this a full-length installment, hence this short endeavor into the land of mechanics and technicalities.

~~ Note from the future: I said I wasn’t going to make this a full-length installment, and then I wrote two whole pages about grammar.  _ Rono viro gumo _ . ~~

The most basic syntax of Minichi is Subject-Object-Verb (SOV). The theme of this conlang is emotions and people, so the people/things affected come first. Indirect objects are usually given in a prepositional phrase, which always comes before the main clause (the SOV part). The exception to this is when your sentence doesn’t have a direct object, and it’s easy and reasonable enough to glean that the object is indirect. In those cases, the indirect object takes the Object slot of the SOV.

Here are some examples:

Simple SOV:  _ Ro no Girichi ichiri _ . ‘I am a human.’

SOV + indirect object:  _ Cipi pico, ro chino picori! _ ‘I’m giving this to you!’ ( ‘To you, I give this!’ )

SOV + IO - direct object:  _ Ro cori gopiri. _ ‘I’m talking to her.’

In Minichi, there is no proper imperative, nor a proper interrogative. Command phrases are given as normal sentences with ‘you’ as the subject. Yes-or-no questions are given as normal statements, just spoken with the intonation of a question. You can add question words to the front of these statements, but you still don’t change the actual SOV unit.

Examples:

Imperative:  _ Pico picono choa mogi! _ ‘Move your stuff!’ ( ‘You move your stuff!’ )

Yes-or-no question:  _ Pico uro riniro? _ ‘Are you okay?’ ( ‘You feel good?’ )

Interrogative:  _ Chici pico mara? _ ‘What are you doing?’ ( ‘What you do?’ )

The interrogative/question words are as follows:  _ chio _ (who),  _ chici _ (what),  _ cono _ (when),  _ cogi _ (where),  _ churi _ (why), and  _ uchi _ (how).

There’s also this category of words in Minichi that I’ve been calling verb modifiers. Here’s the list:  _ runi _ (must/should),  _ robu _ (can),  _ buri _ (could),  _ zuri _ (will),  _ zuro _ (would),  _ giro _ (not), and  _ gigi _ (just/only). You put these in front of the verb to add them to a sentence. Could-sentences are used to express ‘maybe,’ as there is no word for ‘maybe’ in the Minichi dictionary. You can also layer verb modifiers, though  _ gigi _ and  _ giro _ tend to go at the front of such layering. For example, to say ‘Maybe he’s just working,’ you would say  _ Coro gigi buri rogi _ \- ‘He could just be working.’ To say ‘And maybe he isn’t,’ you would probably say  _ Ano coro buri giro _ \- ‘And he could not [be doing that].’ In this instance,  _ giro _ is being used as a verb meaning ‘to not do something.’

This is only about half of what I originally wrote for this extra part, but I know grammar’s my least favorite part of learning a new language, and I meant it when I said I didn’t want this to be a full-length chapter, so I’m going to cut myself off here. Stay tuned for prepositional phrases, the only actual conjugation in this conlang, incorrect grammar that became correct, and more.

Umoriut ichiri!

Kat C.


	6. Cin: Ricomi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [NOTE: All corresponding audio clips to the Minichi phrases given in this chapter can be found on the Tumblr blog @picono-cogifa]

Welcome to the slam! And welcome to the jam!

Rini umori, rono ricoa, and welcome to the next proper episode of Local English Major Flounders: feat. Ya Boi. Last time, I said we were going to talk about friends and family, so this time, we’re actually gonna talk about friends and family.

Let’s do this.

I have a lot of concepts on how Minish families work, and they’re not exactly the nuclear family, but I made sure to include vocabulary for all of the basic familial relations in most real life cultures, because that’s kind of important. Firstly, as with any other title or occupation of sorts in Minichi, there are no separate words based on gender. ‘Mom and dad’ are expressed with one word. ‘Aunt and uncle’ are expressed with one word. Your grandparents would all be called the same thing - one word. Here is a list of those words:

Rico - Friend/Sibling/Cousin

Niro - Parent/Caretaker

Coniro - Aunt/Uncle/Godparent/Friend of one’s parent

Runiro - Grandparent

Ricomi - Family/Social circle

These terms organize loved ones into basic categories. Your ‘ricoa’ are loved ones who are around your age, such as your friends, siblings, or cousins.  _ Ricoa _ are peers or otherwise equals.  _ Niroa _ , meanwhile, includes anyone in a direct and nurturing position of authority in relation to you. These are your parents, but also any legal guardians. An older person being taken care of by an at-home nurse may even respectfully refer to the nurse in this light - the broad meaning of the word is ‘caretaker.’  _ Coniro _ can best be explained as the  _ ricoa _ to your  _ niroa _ . These can be your parents’/caretakers’ siblings, friends, or cousins. By contrast,  _ runiroa _ are the  _ niroa _ of your  _ niroa _ \- your parents’/caretakers’ parents or caretakers.

Something I wanted to emphasize in this language is the equal importance of the family you’re related to and the family you choose. So, friends and siblings are referred to equally, as are parents and other caretakers - aunts, uncles and family friends.  _ Ricomi _ is used to mean your family, but also your social circles, your friend groups. A major part of this is that I headcanon Minish as typically seeing their whole community or town as one big family, regardless of whether they’re legally or biologically connected to everyone in it.

So, it is with that logic that I transition into a topic pertaining to a broader community: honorifics.

In Minichi, there are two honorifics: -chu and -fu. -chu is used when speaking to people older than you or otherwise ‘superior’ to you - whether they’re your boss, the village elder, or just your parents. It’s a sign of respect similar to the concept of ‘senpai’ in Japanese. -fu, meanwhile, is closer to the Japanese ‘kouhai.’ It’s specifically used when speaking to people younger or otherwise ‘inferior’ to you, and is seen as a sign of affection. You would use -fu with younger siblings or underclassmen, or you may use the suffix to jokingly patronize your  _ ricoa _ . -chu and -fu are respectively derived from the words for ‘adult’ and ‘child:’  _ chuno ano funo _ . Because of the lack of gendered words in Minichi, sons, daughters, and all children are referred to as  _ funoa _ .

With that, let’s look at a couple examples of Minish relations: Ezlo and Vaati.

Side note: Minichi never does two of the same letter in a row (like in ‘Vaati’ ), and the Minichiano ‘a’ makes the same sound as the ‘aa’ in Vaati’s name anyways, so when using Vaati in Minichi-related stuff, I’ll normally spell his name with one ‘a’ instead of two. ‘Vati.’

In the pre-canon of Minish Cap, Ezlo is a great Minish sage, and Vaati is apprenticed beneath him. As his master, Ezlo could refer to Vaati as his  _ mopichi _ (student/apprentice). Potential nicknames could be Vati-fu, Va-fu, or Ti-fu. Personally, I like the idea of Ezlo calling Vaati Ti-fu, because Vaati’s the only Minish character whose name ends in ‘ti.’ People would immediately know who Ezlo’s talking about, and I just think Ti-fu sounds cute. I also think it’d be funny if Ezlo called Vaati Gu-fu when really and truly mad at him - it means ‘damn kid!’ It’s implied that Ezlo was Vaati’s legal guardian or parental figure before the events of Minish Cap, so, if you follow that headcanon, Ezlo could call Vaati his  _ funo _ .

Vaati, meanwhile, could call Ezlo his  _ ruchinori _ ,  _ ruchi _ , or perhaps  _ niro _ , if he’s feeling a certain level of vulnerability and emotional openness at the moment. Possible nicknames include Ezlo-chu, Ez-chu, or Zlo-chu. Some Minish may refer to their bosses as  _ Ruchi-chu _ (loosely ‘Mx. Boss’ - ‘Mr. Boss-man,’ ‘Ms. Boss-lady,’ etc.) if they’re being overly polite, so I can see Vaati doing that to Ezlo sarcastically.

If Vaati saw Ezlo as his  _ niro _ , I imagine he would see Ezlo’s  _ ricoa _ , like Librari (the Minichi version of his name would be Alunari, derived from  _ alun _ , which means ‘book’ ) and Gentari (spelled Jentari in Minichi), as  _ coniroa _ . He would refer to them either as  _ Ruchipo Alunari ano Ruchipo Jentari _ or  _ Alunari-chu ano Jentari-chu _ . He might see Melari (spelled the same) as either a younger uncle or a cousin, so he could call him either a  _ coniro _ or a  _ rico _ . Vaati would likely call him Ruchi Melari (Master Melari) or Melari-chu or, if you headcanon them with a closer relationship, Melo-chu. Festari (spelled Feztari) could be viewed much the same:  _ coniro rio rico _ , referred to as Uroichi Feztari, Feztari-chu, or Fez-chu.

At this point, I’d like to talk about nicknames given to friends/siblings/cousins/peers -  _ ricoa _ . Minichiano nicknames tend to be shortenings of one’s original name, and always end with a vowel emphasizing a certain characteristic. Nicknames ending with ‘i’ are seen as cute, ‘o’ is considered a bigger and more powerful ending, ‘e’ is used with more casual relationships, ‘a’ with more respectable and mature friends, and ‘u’ with people you absolutely adore, the closest and most important friends or siblings to you. These vowels may already be part of someone’s name, or be added on.

For example, depending on how you view your friend Bilari, you could nickname them Bili, Bilo, Bile, Bila, or Bilu.

And that’s about all I’ve got for this chapter. Next chapter will be about  _ nu Minichiano Abicochi  _ (the Minish alphabet), and I might cover numbers with it. After that, I’ll be reaching a bit of an impasse. So far, I’ve been covering topics based on what I think the Minish would think most important for someone new to their language to learn: hellos, goodbyes, introducing yourself, describing your relationship with others, basic vocabulary of identity, and the alphabet. I’m not sure where to go from there, though: food? Colors? Numbers?

What do you guys think? Please let me know!

Umoriut ichiri,

Kat C.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Kat of August, 2020, here! I wrote this chapter of Chipochi like four or five months ago, and I was going to post it then, but Life(tm) hit and I ended up taking a break from this project for a significant amount of time. Things are finally settling down, so I post this chapter with the hope that I'll be able to again pick up this work's original posting schedule.
> 
> I'd like to take a moment to thank you guys who have been commenting and kudos'ing despite my inactivity - it still brings me an intense amount of joy when people enjoy my work. These pleasant notifications in my inbox also serve as an excellent reminder for me to work on the guide, so thank you for that as well.
> 
> I hope you all have a lovely day, and I'll see you in the next part!


End file.
